


Here and Now

by prongsdeer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dry Humping, F/M, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Lapdance, Oral Sex, Smut, Star Spangled Bingo, Sub Steve Rogers, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 15:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prongsdeer/pseuds/prongsdeer
Summary: Steve Rogers is known as Captain America, the man who gives orders and keeps everything under control. Not everyone knows that he’d very much like to give up on all the responsibility sometimes.





	Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fic for my Star Spangled Bingo card (you can check it out on tumblr). The square was frottage.

Steve drummed the pencil on the top of the desk, staring off into the distance with a light frown while he tried to word his next sentence. It was a habit of his: even though he had a perfectly functional laptop, he still had a pencil around to fiddle with. He heaved a sigh and returned to his work, typing away on the keyboard. Only the monotone tapping sounds broke the silence, until he heard three rapid knocks.

“Come in.”

The door opened only just enough for you to slip in. Steve’s lips curved into a small, tired smile. It wasn’t fake, but it wasn’t completely honest either. While he was happy to see you, he couldn’t tear his thoughts away from his job; not yet.

You walked to his desk. “How are you feeling?”

He leaned back in his chair, tapping the pencil against his thigh. “I’m okay. How about you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. His features hardened as he spoke and his voice didn’t show any emotion at all. As so many times before, you felt like you were still talking to Captain America, not Steve Rogers.

“Kind of,” you replied, then quickly went on, seeing his concerned frown. “I just need some time off. I’m going out with Sam and Bucky. Why don’t you join us?”

Steve clenched his jaw and straightened in the chair. “I can’t. I have to finish this first,” he said, pointing at the screen. “Maybe another time.”

For a while, neither of you said anything. Even though he wasn’t physically tired, his eyes showed that deep emotional exhaustion you so often saw after a mission. You knew he wasn’t lying: after he was done with all of his paperwork, Steve preferred to spend time with his loved ones, too. Sometimes you just wished he would put himself first.

You stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. Usually, he melted beneath your touch, but all you could feel now how tense his muscles were. “Please. You need some time to yourself. Relax a little.”

“And I will,” Steve stated firmly, and you knew he won’t change his mind. “But I have to deal with this first.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, barely more than a whisper before gave his shoulder a last stroke and left the room.

Knowing Steve for years, you learnt that his way of unwinding after a mission was completely different from yours. While you loved being around friends and acting like a normal person, Steve spent long hours or even days with his mind still on the job. Doing paperwork, making sure everything went right, ruining a punching bag or two to blow off some steam if it didn’t. Sometimes you didn’t have a chance to get him back before he had to be Captain America again.

It wasn’t because he didn’t like to be with you or with his friends; he really did. Spending time around them was the only thing that kept him sane. You could hardly put into words what a delight it was to see him smiling and relaxed surrounded by the people he loved, compared to the strict and stern man he always had to play. But Steve couldn’t just take a day off. He was always the captain first and it was something you had to accept.

A day later, Steve finally left the small office and headed into his bedroom. He still had the pants of his suit on, like he was counting on someone needing Captain America. He took his clothes off, folded them carefully and stepped into the shower. He spent more than half an hour there, letting the nearly scalding hot water melting some of the tension away from his body.

He towelled himself dry and slipped into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His movements were jittery, excited to finally blow off some steam, surrounded by people he loved. He wanted to find you first, but just as he started towards the bedroom door, there was a knock and you stepped in.

Steve couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering: from your face covered in light makeup, to your trench coat which ended around the middle of your thighs, to your black stockings and pretty high heels.

“Are you free now?”

His eyes darted up as if he was caught doing something bad. “Yes…” he said hesitantly. “Do you want to—are you going somewhere?”

With a small smirk, you shook your head. When you left your room, the clothes you had on made you nervous, but they also gave you a lot of confidence. As you took your coat off, revealing the scarlet dress you were wearing, the look Steve gave you only fuelled the fire.

He was caught so off guard that he didn’t even notice the vinyl in your hand until you slipped it out of its sleeve and put it into the record player.

“What are you up to, sweetheart?” Tension strained his voice, but now it had more lightness to it than before. He couldn’t hide his nervousness. Your dress was so small, a lot shorter than what you would normally wear.

“Just a little surprise for you. Sit down,” you said with a smile, nodding at the armchair across the room.

With a puzzled look on his face, Steve complied and lowered himself down. He watched as you gently placed the arm on the vinyl and the moment the needle touched down, soft jazz music filled the room.

Steve felt his pulse kicking up a notch while you walked to him, lightly swaying your hips. You leaned down and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing on it until his back touched the backrest of the chair. His muscles were tense under your palm and even though you were not nearly strong enough as he was, he let you take the lead.

While your body never stopped moving with the music, you took both of his hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. “I missed you, Steve.”

Hearing someone saying his name after days of being called “Captain” spread warmth through him. His eyes lit up, you could see it. “I missed you too.”

You released his hands, letting them fall while you stepped closer and lifted your leg, resting a knee on the chair between his legs. Steve swallowed hard, shuddering as you ran your palms from his shoulders and down his strong arms. “I want you to relax.”

“Anything you want,” he breathed out, making you chuckle.

Stepping back, you let the slow music lead you as continued your dance. Steve’s eyes were soft and followed each of your tiny movements. He adored watching your hands sliding up and down your body, touching yourself the way he would. Every move you made was so slow, so delicate, that it was pure torture to just sit back and watch. He longed to reach out and pull you close, but on the other hand, he also just enjoyed watching.

His lips parted when you reached up to the thin straps of the dress, pulling them over your shoulders and slowly slipping it down your body. His gaze followed its way, stopping at the black, lacy bra, panties, the matching garter belt that held up the lace-topped stockings.

Steve wanted to say something but all his words were stuck in his throat at the very sight of you. The undulation of your hips, the sway of your body drew him in and you loved the way his eyes stayed on you. It lit a fire deep in your belly.

Dancing towards him, you stopped between his parted legs and ran your fingers through his hair. His blond locks were still damp from the shower, his cheeks and the tip of his ears pink. Almost immediately, his hands went to your waist and slid up your sides, but you grasped his wrists and pinned them to the chair.

“No touching.”   

He let out a strangled groan and clenched his jaw, but leaned back and obeyed. While you didn’t allow him to lay a finger on you, your hands went to explore the sensitive parts of his body. Running your fingers down his nape, gently scratching your nails down his forearms; stroking your palms along his small waist and up and down his inner thighs. Steve squirmed and another groan fell from his lips while you climbed on to his lap, straddling his waist.

You could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, the veins in his forearms swelling as he gripped the armrest tighter. His eyes bored into yours, his pupils blown and filled with desire. Lowering your hips, you ground against his bulge that you could so easily feel under the fabric of his sweatpants. He felt amazing and you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve finally said what he wanted to say from the moment you stepped into his bedroom. You smiled and leaned closer, fingertips tenderly brushing against the back of his neck while you pressed feather-light kisses behind his ear. He was getting harder under you, his hips carefully rocking with yours. You tugged his t-shirt up over his head, throwing it away somewhere behind his back.

The light brushes of the tip of your fingers on his bare skin sent a shiver up his spine. Steve yearned to touch you, feel your warm skin on his, enjoy as your soft curves fill his hands, pull your body flush against his. He wanted to kiss every inch of you.

“Y/N,” he breathed your name out. “Let me touch you.”

Your hand stopped on his abs and you looked up at him. “You’re not giving any orders now, Steve.”

The quiet noise he let out was somehow both annoyed and content. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, lips twitching into a half-smile. His frustrated sigh turned into a moan of pleasure as you kept rolling your hips with the rhythm of the music and soon, both of you were groaning, panting heavily.

When the song ended, you crawled out of Steve’s lap and stood between his legs. He looked so gorgeous while he waited patiently, gazing up at you with slightly parted lips. His cheeks were red and his hair messy from your fingers. With the next song, you started to sway again, turning your back at him. He missed the warmth of your body against his, the weight on his lap, and he couldn’t help but grab himself through his pants to ease some of the painful throbbing he felt.

Looking back over your shoulder to give him a cheeky smile, you caught a glimpse of his hand and stopped for a moment. “Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Steve pulled his arm back. “I’m sorry.”

Stepping backwards, you slowly bent down, hands on his knees for some support while you rubbed your butt against his crotch. He needed every ounce of self-control not to buck his hips up or wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him. Sometimes you barely touched him, sometimes you increased the pressure so suddenly it nearly undid him.

Straightening, you straddled his right leg and sat on his lap, leaning back against his chest. While your hips moved in small circles, you tilted your head so you could pepper wet kisses on his neck. You could feel the rapid drumming of his heart and hear his heavy breathing that he tried to keep in control. One of your hands grasped his thigh, the other slid down from your breasts to your belly, slipping into your underwear.

The soft, quiet whimper that fell from your lips made him dizzy with smouldering desire. His body tensed beneath you while he watched you playing with yourself, listening to your sweet sounds, grasping the armrests with such force you wouldn’t be surprised if he ripped a piece out of it. You put your free hand on top of his, stroking soothingly.

“Relax for me,” you purred, making Steve sigh.

“You’re not making it easy.”

Your small chuckle quickly turned into a moan as you kept rubbing your wet clit. Steve let himself go again; you felt his body melting. It was torturous that he couldn’t touch you, but he loved watching you and hearing you enjoying yourself.

“Oh, please,” he rasped out, into your ear. “Please let me do it for you.”

You bit down your lower lip. “Not yet.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and involuntarily bucked his hips, making the both of you groan. The uncontrolled movements of your body while you were bringing yourself closer to an orgasm drove him insane. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the back of your head, revelling in the feeling of you writhing on him. His hot breath on your neck made goosebumps prickle across your skin, helping you to reach your high. Arching your back, you cried out and dug your nails into his wrist.

For a little while, you just sat there, collapsed against his chest, panting, until you felt strong enough to stand up again. Steve’s gaze shifted to his lap, quivering with anticipation at the sight of the little wet spot you left on his grey sweats. You walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, crossing your legs and smiling at him.

“Get up. Take off your clothes.”

Steve did as you said so and slipped out of his sweatpants and underwear. His fingers were visibly shaking, his body tense. He stood and watched you, licking his lips in excitement.

“Come here and kiss me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He closed the distance and bent down, gently cradling your face as he moved his lips against yours. His kiss was deep and passionate, pouring all the want he felt into it.

“You’ve been so good, Steve,” you said sweetly when you pulled back. “You can undress me now.”

He kneeled down, watching as you uncrossed your legs. After he took your heels off, he carefully unhooked each garter, rolling the stocking down your thigh, his palm following its way. He added just the right amount of pressure to it, enjoying the feeling of the warm, smooth skin under his hands.

When the stockings and garters were off, Steve’s hands glided from your thighs to your waist, ever so slowly up your sides, loving the way you filled his palms. He reached back to unhook your bra, slid the straps off both shoulders and dropped the garment to the floor. You could see in his eyes how much to touch your breasts, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to and so he didn’t. It made you smile and you bit your lip.

His hands skimmed along the soft skin right above your underwear, hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling the fabric down your legs. He threw them over the side, his eyes glued to the wet spot between your thighs.

“What is it, baby?” You asked at the sight of the pained expression on his face, running your fingers through his hair.

“Can I please taste you?”

“Yes, you can.”

His hands went up your legs and you spread them wider, giving him more room. Steve dipped his head and licked his way into your delicate folds, tasting your wetness. His tongue moved up and down slowly, just tasting until he pressed against your swollen clit. You gasped and bucked up against him, pulling him closer with your hand at his nape. As he increased his pace and the pressure, you soon felt pleasure building inside you and you fell back on the bed, gripping the sheets.

“You’re doing so great, Steve,” you praised after a small groan, panting. “You’re making me feel so good.”

At your words he grasped your hips a little tighter and hummed into you, creating a vibrating sensation that nearly sent you over the edge. He teased your opening and sucked your clit in turn until it was almost too much to bear, yet not enough.

“Steve. Make me come.”

His mouth never leaving you, he eased two fingers into you, sighing in content how warm and wet you felt. You clamped your legs around his neck, as if trying to pull him closer and deeper, small sounds of pleasure falling from your lips. His fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out. Your body was shaking all over and he didn’t slow down until he felt your tight walls clenching around his digits and with you repeating his name like a mantra.

He pulled his fingers out, but continued lapping at you, slowly and gently, pressing soft kisses to the top of your thighs. When your breathing slowed down, you grasped his forearm and pulled yourself up in a sitting position, leaning down to kiss him.

“Lie down,” you purred, patting the sheets next to you.

As he climbed up on the bed and lay down, you shifted closer and pressed against his side, hooking a leg over his. You could feel his heated skin under your fingertips as they danced over his chest and down to his lower abdomen. His cock twitched; the angry red tip leaked pre-cum.

“You’re not allowed to come until I say so,” you said, hand resting on his thigh while you looked up at him. “You can stop me if you’re close, but you cannot come.”

Shivering, Steve nodded hastily. His reaction was immediate when you took him into your hand: his entire body jolted and tensed; a deep groan rumbled in his chest. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold himself back while you grasped him in your soft hand, moving so languidly, delicately.

He couldn’t stifle little whimpers as you left kisses along his jawline, your fingertips rubbing his cock lightly, only teasingly. Pressing your lips to his ear, you whispered his name and murmured you loved how hard he got for you.

“Oh, God. Stop. Stop.”

Pulling back, you smiled up at him. “Good,” you said, sliding your hand across his stomach, but he gently pushed it away.

“Don’t—please don’t touch me or I’ll come.”

Steve’s eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. He looked so wound up and helpless.

“Do you want to keep playing, Steve? Or do you want me to let you come?”

He let out a trembling breath; his voice raw and weak. “I don’t know.”

It was rare when these words left his lips. He didn’t want to choose because he didn’t want to make any decision; he just wanted to relinquish all control. He wanted to let himself go, but he couldn’t quite do that while you kept him on the edge.

Sitting up, you straddled his hips. He grasped your hands that you rested on his chest, squeezing gently. “Y/N… please…”

You hushed him with a soft kiss and lowered yourself on him, pressing his length between your wet folds and his stomach. He groaned and opened his eyes, watching as you ground yourself back and forth. His eyes glistened, darkened with yearning. He placed his hands on your waist, but you took his wrists and hold them down the mattress.

Steve was a mess. He moaned, whimpered, squirmed beneath you and pleaded over and over again, until he wasn’t even sure why he was begging. His mind went empty and all he could focus on was the pleasure you gave him. It was a real treat seeing him like this, the way he never showed himself to anyone else but you.

“I want you to come, Steve,” you said, increasing your pace. “Let go for me.”

His hips jerked violently, his body tensing one last time while he came, spilling all over his stomach in waves. He didn’t even try to keep his voice down; his groans were loud, uncontrolled. Incoherent sentences left his lips. His eyes fell shut and he relaxed back against the sheets, panting heavily.

Releasing his wrists, you climbed off of him. Steve blinked and watched you leaving to the bathroom, missing the closeness of your body. His breaths slowed down by the time he heard your bare feet padding on the floor. He sighed in content when he felt you cleaning him up with a warm washcloth.

His mind and body went mushy, sinking deep into relaxation. When he felt the mattress dipping under your weight as you lay next to him, he opened his arms and pulled you into him. Your legs tangled with his, you drew comforting circles on his back with your palm.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“More than okay,” he replied quietly. His eyes were sleepy, sparkling; his smile small but satisfied. You missed the calmness in his blue eyes and finally seeing it sent warmth through you. He no longer held tension in his body; it felt amazing snuggling close to him.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

Steve chuckled and gave you a tender kiss. “Thank you, sweetheart. You always know what I need.”

“That’s my superpower.”

He smiled and nuzzled your neck.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Yes, please,” he mumbled, nodding. “Just you and me.” For now, he didn’t want to worry about anything; he just wanted to lose himself in the comfort of your embrace as long as he could. Even if it was just for a few hours.


End file.
